


someday, i'll show you the bullet i had for you

by staygame (sungjae)



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sungjae/pseuds/staygame
Summary: "It's about, like—you know that feeling? Where you want to go back and do things again, but you know yourself well enough to know that if you could do it all again, you'd probably still fuck it up the same way?""No," Hanbin lies.





	someday, i'll show you the bullet i had for you

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [kpopolymfics2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/kpopolymfics2019) collection. 



> **Day6 – "Shoot Me"**  
> [lyrics](https://colorcodedlyrics.com/2018/06/day6-shoot-me) **|** [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2X2LdJAIpU) **|** [supplementary](https://www.flickr.com/photos/elstevo13/6134884884/) \- [prompts](https://www.flickr.com/photos/blachswan/14990119679/)
> 
> ☆ This fic was written for K-Pop Olymfics 2019 as part of Team Canon/AR/Future 1. Olymfics is a challenge in which participants write fics based on prompt sets and compete against other teams of writers, organized by genre. Competition winners are chosen by the readers, so please rate this fic using [this survey](https://forms.gle/an6s9NV1869Rhrqq5)! ☆
> 
> content notes (may contain spoilers):  
> \- excessive alcohol consumption  
> \- unwanted kissing  
> \- internalized homophobia
> 
> _It’s when you’re on the brink of something / that you lose your balance. / You told me that once. / When I can’t bring myself to say what I need to, / my heart plays Russian Roulette with my throat. / I swear I fired that night, but, nothing._  
>   
> 

►

When Hanbin returns from his afternoon coffee run to find the chair in front of his desk occupied, two equally unhelpful thoughts occur to him. 1.) He's at least 70% sure he'd locked the door behind him and 2.) if someone is here to rob him, Hanbin's not going to be able to fight them off with coffee. Iced coffee, no less.

Then the figure in the chair turns to face the door, and Hanbin nearly chokes on his sip of coffee.

Jinhwan looks different these days. His chest is broader, muscles filling in the delicate slope of his shoulders. His cheeks are tight, not gaunt like a crash diet but chiseled. His hair is growing out from a short crop, that awkward in-between stage, but it looks soft; the smooth, black strands of virgin hair.

Hanbin's own hair hasn't been washed in three days. He hopes, distantly, that he doesn't smell.

"You do realize you're wearing three pairs of glasses, right?" Jinhwan says by way of greeting. 

"Oh," Hanbin says. He touches the top of his head, feeling hard plastic. "I couldn't find them earlier." 

"Typical," Jinhwan says. 

Hanbin, for lack of anything better to do or say at this particular moment, takes a long sip of his coffee. 

"I like what you've done with the place," Jinhwan says, gesturing around him. 

Hanbin's studio is a small space on the edge of Gangnam with a view of an older, somewhat decrepit building and someone's plant-filled balcony. It's a downgrade from his last studio at YG, but it's close to the river and more importantly, it's _his_. Designed and remodeled to his specifications. His parents had asked why he didn't want something nicer, a studio in Apgujeong maybe (hell, the whole building), but it was this one that reminded him the most of the basement where he'd gotten his start. It's true that you never forget your first. 

The main room features wood-paneled walls and a wide leather couch where Hanbin has fallen asleep more times than he can count. There's a large, plush rug in the middle of the room where he's also fallen asleep a time or two. It's cozy, just like he'd wanted. 

"Thanks," Hanbin says. "Look, is there—" 

"How have—" Jinhwan starts to say at the same time. They both stop, and Hanbin gestures for Jinhwan to continue first. He doesn't remember it being this awkward the last time they were together, but it's been over a year since the one time that Jinhwan's and Yunhyeong's leaves matched up and the seven of them had gathered for a reunion. The conversational muscle memory has atrophied, leaving nothing in its place. "How have you been?" 

"Good," Hanbin says. His coffee cup is dripping condensation, a single drop landing on his bare ankle. "Working a lot, you know." 

"I saw the song you produced for that new girl group," Jinhwan says. "Everyone in my division was singing it."

"That's good." 

"So, how's your family?"

"Why are you here?" Hanbin says. "What do you want?"

Jinhwan flinches. It's a small movement, a twitch of his upper lip, but their quirks—Bobby's wringing hands when he's nervous, Yunhyeong's stutter—are something Hanbin hasn't forgotten. "Do I have to have a reason? Why do I have to want something?"

"Sorry, that was harsh." Hanbin finally sits down on the couch, facing Jinhwan. 

"It's true, though. I guess. I do want something from you."

"Okay." Hanbin waits. 

"I got signed by a company."

"That's good."

"They want me to put out an album. Just a mini—four or five songs, probably? And I want you to produce it."

Hanbin nods. There's a jumble of half-formed melodies, stray guitar riffs and layers of sound crowding his thoughts at all times, but even just this offer has something more solid taking shape in his mind. He's been holding onto ideas for Jinhwan since he started composing. 

"I'm thinking something like Taemin sunbae, a sexy concept," Jinhwan says. "But one condition, I want to work on it with you. Co-producer."

"Okay," Hanbin says. He switches the cup from his left hand to his right, wiping the dampness on his shorts. His drink must be more melted ice than coffee by now.

Jinhwan looks at him for a long moment, scouring Hanbin's face for something. "Just like that?"

"Why not? I'm not working on anything major right now." 

"I just wasn't sure if you'd agree."

"Well, I did."

Jinhwan stands. He's only the rug's width away from Hanbin now. Even this physical proximity feels foreign, and Hanbin can't decide if the distance between them is too close or too far. "I'm glad, Hanbin," Jinhwan says. "I'll send you the details."

He makes it to the door before Hanbin thinks of something to say. "Hyung, it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too," Jinhwan says, smiling. 

When Jinhwan's back is to him, Hanbin's right hand automatically comes up to cover his chest. His heartbeat is an irregular rhythm under his palm.

 

 

◄◄◄

 

 

In the middle of a six-month drought, when Hanbin is surviving off cups of coffee and submitting a new song to YG every day in hopes that something will convince him to give them a comeback, Hanbin and Jinhwan stop talking for three days. 

Of course, this is not hard to accomplish when you live on separate floors, and the only shared schedule is a routine rehearsal for a festival performance. Still, the silent treatment doesn't escape the attention of Yunhyeong, who can sniff out discord between members like a dog.

Yunhyeong approaches Hanbin during their water break, squeezing his hands and casting a fretful look over his shoulder at Jinhwan. "Are you two fighting?" he asks. 

"No," Hanbin denies. 

"So in Hanbin-speak, that's a yes?" 

Hanbin shrugs. His fingers are tearing at the wrapper on his water bottle, shredding it into pieces that fall to the floor around his feet. Donghyuk always jokes that they can follow Hanbin by the trails of ripped up paper he leaves behind. "It's not a no."

"About what?" Yunhyeong asks. 

It was stupid. Hanbin had been half-asleep at his keyboard when Jinhwan showed up at his studio, holding a notebook in his hands that he passed to Hanbin. "I wrote some lyrics," Jinhwan had said. "I want you to take a look." 

The lyrics weren't bad. Songs about loving a woman who is too mature for the narrator, too far out of his reach. Songs about breaking up and living the single life. Nothing revolutionary, but nothing to scoff at either. 

Jinhwan perched on Hanbin's desk, expectant. 

"They're good," Hanbin said, setting the notebook down. The cover had been decorated with stickers, most prominently one that read _Kim Jinhwan_ in the style of the Supreme logo. A gift from one of his fansites, probably. "Do you want to make a solo debut?" 

"No, I wanted to see if you could use some of these lyrics for an iKON song."

Hanbin could feel his lack of sleep acutely in that moment, hanging heavy over him like a weighted blanket. "I'm not sure they'll work for us," he said, rubbing a hand down his face. 

He watched Jinhwan's brow furrow. "Why not?" 

"I don't know. It's just not our style." 

"You mean your style," Jinhwan said. "Are these not sad enough for you? If I write about heartbreak, will that be good enough for you?"

"You asked for my opinion," Hanbin said, pushing his chair away from his desk, away from Jinhwan. "Don't be a dick just because it wasn't what you wanted to hear."

"Should we talk about being a dick, then? You're not a control freak, you just don't think that anyone is as good as you."

"Well maybe you're not," Hanbin said. 

With this, Jinhwan had walked out, leaving his notebook behind. Hanbin resisted the urge to throw it in the trash can and instead turned it over, sliding it to the far edge of his desk, where it would sit, he decided, until Jinhwan got over himself enough to ask for it back. 

"You're right, that is stupid," Yunhyeong says now. "You know how he gets when he feels insecure."

"I'm not going to baby anyone," Hanbin insists, folding his arms over his chest. 

Yunhyeong looks up at the ceiling and shakes his head. "I can't deal with either of you. You're both too stubborn."

 

 

At the end of day three, Hanbin begrudgingly carries the notebook home with him from work. He drops it on the dining room table in front of Jinhwan, who looks up from his ramen with a pinched expression. "Here," Hanbin says, then leaves. 

The next day, when Hanbin realizes five minutes into the van ride to the festival performance across town that he's forgotten his headphones, Jinhwan offers Hanbin his extra pair. 

"Thanks," Hanbin says. Their fingers brush when Jinhwan hands them over. 

"Don't mention it."

Yunhyeong gives a thumbs up from the front seat.

 

 

►►►

 

 

Hanbin doesn't remember being this ticklish. Since he'd ended promotions for his own album, this is the first thing that he's filmed that has required getting mic'd up. When the coordi starts to fuss with the wire from his mic to the pack, cold fingers brushing against Hanbin's rib cage, he flinches away from her, suppressing a giggle.

"Sorry," he apologizes.

To his right, where another coordi is going in for her third blast of hairspray, Donghyuk laughs at Hanbin.

"The back of his knees are ticklish too," Donghyuk says, and the noona blushes and sputters, mumbling that she has no need to touch him there. 

"Don't be weird," Hanbin tells Donghyuk. 

They're filming for the show that Donghyuk is a mentor on, taking two dozen inexperienced trainees and attempting to turn them into self-producing idols. Donghyuk's team of six, mentored in music production by Pentagon's Hui, has survived one elimination round with mostly positive reviews. Their first song leaned bubblegum with only a slight hip hop twinge, but Hanbin is here, supposedly, to teach them how to do swag.

"Are they good?" Hanbin asks Donghyuk as they wait for the trainees to file in.

Donghyuk grins, beaming with fatherly pride. "Honestly, they remind me of us."

"Too big for their britches?" Hanbin asks.

"Spirited," Donghyuk says. "They think they can do anything if they set their minds to it."

In front of them, the six trainees stand with their backs straight as coordis deal with messy bangs and sweaty foreheads. They look so young, younger than Hanbin remembers feeling when he stood in their place. "They'll grow out of it," he says, surveying their faces. 

"Did we?" Donghyuk asks, letting his elbow bump against Hanbin's. "Anyway, I hope they don't." 

 

 

Lunch is provided on set, but Hanbin takes Donghyuk out to a nearby barbecue restaurant, fulfilling his hyung quota for the month. Donghyuk orders grilled octopus, spicy squid, and beer for the both of them.

"Is your tolerance still pathetic, hyung?" Donghyuk asks, tipping his glass in Hanbin's direction.

"Yah, is that any way to speak to someone who is buying you a meal?" Hanbin says, but he clinks his glass against Donghyuk's anyway.

He lets Donghyuk talk about his team (his _kids_ ), the songs that he's been working on for fun with some of the guys from his label. Since disbanding, Donghyuk, no longer constrained by two members hogging all the spotlight, has kept the most busy of any of them. Hanbin is proud of Donghyuk's work ethic, but he finds it hard to listen, mind elsewhere.

"Did you know Jinhwan finished his enlistment?" Hanbin asks. He tries to sound casual, but apparently fails, because Donghyuk sets down his chopsticks immediately and turns his attention toward Hanbin. 

"He texted me, but didn't you see it on the news?" 

Hanbin shifts in his seat, his knees aching where they've been folded up underneath him. "If no one tells me directly, I don't really pay attention to what's going on these days."

"Still spending all your time in your cave?" Donghyuk asks. Hanbin does not protest this. "Why do you ask?" 

"He came to see me at my cave," Hanbin explains. "He's signed with some label and he wants to work with me on his debut album." 

Donghyuk doesn't seem all that surprised. His face is uncharacteristically reserved, as though he's waiting to see how Hanbin feels before giving anything away. "And you agreed?" 

"I had no reason not to agree," Hanbin says. He shifts again, stretching his legs out under the table. 

"But you two have trouble working together?"

"It wasn't always like that."

Donghyuk smiles, tight-lipped and knowing. "No, it wasn't." 

 

 

They meet at Hanbin's studio on a Wednesday. Hanbin only knows what day it is because his new favorite drama airs on Wednesday nights and he has a recurring appointment in his calendar to remind him of it. Otherwise, his days just run together. 

Jinhwan is waiting at Hanbin's door, squatting down against the wall. He's holding two toasts, each wrapped in greasy parchment paper and overflowing with shredded lettuce. He extends one to Hanbin. "I figured you hadn't eaten anything today."

"Thanks," Hanbin says. He punches the combination into the keypad, then turns back to look at Jinhwan. "I forgot to ask, how did you get into my studio the other day?"

"Your mom," Jinhwan says, the corner of his mouth turning up smugly. "She always liked me."

Hanbin flips on the lights. There's a pile of wadded-up notebook paper and cough drop wrappers that he'd forgotten to clean up yesterday scattered across his desk, and he hopes that Jinhwan doesn't notice. "You and my mom, Junhwe and my sister, what's with you guys and my family?"

"Your mom is good-looking, what can I say?"

"I'm kicking you out."

Jinhwan holds up a palm in self-defense. "Hey, I brought you food."

"Fine," Hanbin says. "You can stay."

Jinhwan settles into the spare office chair, automatically bringing his legs up to tuck them against the desk. Despite his new muscles, Jinhwan still looks small in Hanbin's chair, shoulders dwarfed by its tall back. Hanbin thinks about working on _Return_ and the way that Jinhwan would curl up on the leather couch at the studio, waiting for his turn to record. 

"How old is Hanbyul now anyway?" Jinhwan asks, shaking Hanbin out of his memories.

"She turned 14 this year." Hanbin points to the picture on his desk, of Hanbyul and him at the beach two years ago, wearing matching sunglasses and toothy smiles. "Some trainee asked me last month if she was my daughter."

This makes Jinhwan laugh out loud, choking on a bit of his toast. "Did he really think you looked old enough to have a teenage daughter?"

"He was born in 2006," Hanbin groans. "He probably thought I was ancient."

"Is that what people are going to think of me when I perform? Look at this old guy?"

Hanbin studies Jinhwan. High cheekbones and a gentle, sloping nose. The other day, Hanbin had thought that the lines at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth made him look different, but he can see now that he's still the same Jinhwan, just more mature. Handsome instead of cute, no lingering baby fat to obscure his features.

"No one would think that," Hanbin says, looking away.

While they wait for Hanbin's computer to boot up, Jinhwan pulls out a notebook from his backpack. "I brought some ideas," he says. "I don't know if you have any—"

"I've always had ideas for you," Hanbin says, which feels weirdly revealing as soon as it's out of his mouth. "I mean, I always had at least a few ideas for everyone."

"What were you thinking?"

"You said a mini, right? I think you could do a double title track," Hanbin suggests. He taps his fingers against the desk, counting down each track. "One mid-tempo, with a featured rapper. That's your sexy song. The other one I'm thinking would be more of a dance track. Maybe something retro? You need a ballad on your album. And maybe something a little rock-inspired? How does that sound?"

"So when you said you had a few ideas, you meant a whole album?"

"It's whatever you want, ultimately," Hanbin says.

Jinhwan leans back in his chair. His lips are pursed, but he looks more amused than annoyed. "Well, considering it's _you_ we're talking about, I don't think it's all what I want. But yeah, a double single. I can work with that."

They spend the rest of the afternoon cycling through some of Hanbin's demos, all of the scraps of songs that he thinks would work best with Jinhwan's tone. Every so often, Jinhwan leans over to point at something on Hanbin's desktop and Hanbin follows the winding curve of Jinhwan's tattoo, the trail of letters up his arm, as familiar as anything else about Jinhwan.

Hanbin doesn't realize how late it's gotten until Jinhwan sits up, stretching out his arms with an audible groan. "I've got to go, I'm meeting up with some friends at 7."

The sun has started setting outside, casting golden shadows onto his neighbor's tomato plants. They'd worked straight through lunch and now that the productivity haze is wearing off, Hanbin can feel his stomach reminding him of it. "I'll see you Friday?" Hanbin asks.

Jinhwan tosses his backpack over his shoulder at the door. "See you, then." He pauses at the door, looking back at Hanbin. "And make sure you eat something tonight, I can hear your stomach growling from over here."

"I will," Hanbin promises.

When Hanbin stops for seolleongtang later that night, he sends a picture of the steaming bowl to Jinhwan. In return, Hanbin gets a cheering sticker from Jinhwan and a message that reads _i'm proud of you_.

 

 

◄◄◄

 

 

There are some jokes that the members play up because they are funny, or they make for a good conversation starter. Yunhyeong's retro tastes, Chanwoo's authority over his hyungs, Donghyuk's sensitivity. Then there are some jokes that are made because they are wholly true. Case in point: the amount of time that Hanbin spends in his studio. He's been nocturnal practically since he started training, staying up to work all night and crawling into bed around sunrise. When Yunhyeong says on TV that he never sees Hanbin, it's not an exaggeration.

The one night of the week that Hanbin does make it home before midnight, there is no one else around to bother him. 

Except, apparently, Jinhwan. 

"Jeong Chanwoo," Jinhwan calls out, drawing out the syllable in a high-pitched trill. Hanbin can hear him crack open the door to Chanwoo's room, then close it before moving down the hallway. "Jeong Chanwoo, where are you?" 

The dorm is quiet, just Hanbin's air purifier bubbling placidly and Jinhwan's soft footsteps against the hardwood floor, coming closer until there's a knock on Hanbin's door. 

"Yeah?" 

Jinhwan pokes his head in. He's already washed up for the night, a fluffy headband with cat ears still holding his bangs back. "I was looking for Chanwoo. Have you seen him?" 

"He's out with some friends, I think? I wasn't really listening," Hanbin admits. 

"Oh," Jinhwan says, bottom lip curving into a pout. "I was just checking to see if he wanted to watch a movie with me, but it's okay. Good night." 

Hanbin doesn't know why, but he hears Yunhyeong's voice in his head in that moment, like his conscience, or maybe the angel on his shoulder, trying to tell him something. _You're both too stubborn._ Maybe it's unresolved guilt over their fight, or maybe Hanbin just knows he shouldn't be an introvert all the time. He sits up, and before Jinhwan can close the door behind him, Hanbin says, "Wait. I'll watch it with you."

Jinhwan leans back into the doorway, half-in and half-out so that Hanbin can only see one of his eyes go wide in surprise for the millisecond it takes to process Hanbin's words. "Sure." 

"It's a romantic comedy," Jinhwan warns as Hanbin trails him down to the second dorm. "Chanwoo would've complained, but he owes me for not ratting him out when he was late to practice the other day. But you like romantic comedies, don't you?" 

"Yeah, I do."

The dorm is uncharacteristically quiet when they enter. Even Jaeho's corner of the living room is clean, his bedding neatly folded and tucked away. "Where's hyung?" Hanbin asks. 

"Out with his girlfriend," Jinhwan says in a scornful tone that suggests _how is this guy dating someone but I'm not?_. "Bobby is with his mom and he took Donghyuk along. I have no idea where Junhwe went. I'm home alone." 

"It's fine, you don't have to explain why I'm your last choice."

Hanbin is only joking, but he doesn't expect Jinhwan to squeeze both hands around his bicep, leaning into Hanbin's space. "It's not like that," he says, raising the pitch on his last syllable for effect. Then, as quickly as he'd grabbed on, Jinhwan lets go. Aegyo over. "I expected you to be at the studio, honestly."

"Writer's block," Hanbin says. "I think my brain has finally given up."

Jinhwan opens the door to his bedroom, letting Hanbin enter first. "Give it a day or two, you'll get it back. You can sit on the bed, by the way. It's on my laptop."

There's an open bottle of wine on Jinhwan's nightstand and a half-empty glass next to it that Jinhwan reaches for, taking a long sip. Hanbin slides into the left side of Jinhwan's bed, moving a few stuffed animals out of the way as he settles against the wall. He doesn't know why it feels so awkward. They grew up sharing beds, invading each other's space like it was their job. Touch has always been Hanbin's love language, but he's found himself second-guessing it recently when it comes to Jinhwan.

Jinhwan doesn't seem to notice. He climbs into bed next to Hanbin without hesitating.

The movie he's picked out is something Western, starring an actress that Hanbin vaguely recognizes from previous roles. The plot isn't all that interesting—boy meets girl, girl becomes his rival for a position at a prestigious company, sexual tension ensues—and Hanbin's English is pretty good these days, but not good enough to keep up without relying on the subtitles. He can feel his eyelids growing heavy around the time the male character sabotages the woman's interview by feeding her false information. He doesn't even make it to the end of the scene.

Hanbin wakes up with a crick in his neck. At some point, his head had fallen off the pillow and down onto Jinhwan's shoulder, awkwardly bent at an angle to fit the space. Jinhwan's laptop is on its side between them, still open to a black screen. Hanbin cranes his neck back, tries to find a spot on the pillow, and Jinhwan shifts, letting out a sleepy, muffled sound.

Some people look peaceful when they sleep; Junhwe manages to look conked out and fully dead to the world no matter where he falls asleep, even on the floors of waiting rooms and in the back of the van. Right now, Jinhwan manages to look even more stressed out than he does when he's awake. The space between his eyebrows is furrowed and he's frowning. Hanbin has to stop himself from reaching out, smoothing a thumb over the creases at the corners of his eyes. There was a time where he felt like he could touch Jinhwan wherever he wanted, when Bobby and Jinhwan's bodies felt more like an extension of his own than separate people. The three of them propping each other up, arms and legs and the blood pumping through their veins. But somewhere along the line, things changed. 

A ribcage forming around Hanbin's heart, protecting him from what he wants.

 

 

►►►

 

 

It doesn't take long for the first song to come together. Hanbin pulls out a piano melody that he'd created a while ago and when Jinhwan hears it, he snaps his fingers immediately. "That's the one, I like this one," he says.

The melody has that classic ballad sentimentality, perfect for a mid-album interlude. Hanbin taps out a few chords on his piano, humming under his breath. "Let me hear your lower register again. Sing something." 

"Sing what?"

"Anything."

"We were in love, we met and became a memory that—" Jinhwan smacks Hanbin across the arm. "Stop laughing, you said anything."

It's not that Jinhwan's voice is funny or anything, but the familiar lyrics catch Hanbin by surprise and he can't help himself. "It's fine, it's fine," he says. He adjusts his fingers, letting the opening chords of Love Scenario flow out, practiced enough times to become pure procedural memory. "You know it's been almost two years since I've heard you sing this." 

Jinhwan does a half-hearted attempt at the choreography from his opening lines, waving his hand over his head before letting it drop down onto Hanbin's desk. "Hey, let's slow it down a bit, and then we could let it fade into your new melody."

"That's cheesy," Hanbin says.

"But you like it," Jinhwan says, smugly, pointing at Hanbin's face. "You're smiling." 

"I could be into it," Hanbin admits. 

He plays the melody again, slowing it down to half its usual tempo, then letting it flow into the darker, more melancholy chords he'd shown Jinhwan earlier. As the song takes shape in his mind, he can hear where the strings would come in, the spaces where he'd add some echo-y percussion to give it a more somber tone. There are no lyrics yet, but he can easily imagine Jinhwan's voice over the whole thing. He would sound nice. 

"Let's keep going," he says. "I think we're onto something." 

 

 

On another Wednesday, Hanbin is awakened (well past two in the afternoon, he will admit) by a call from the owner of his studio's building. He's still groggy when he answers the phone, having nearly rolled out of bed to reach it, and his voice comes out thick with sleep.

"Hello?" 

"Kim Hanbin-ssi? This is Park Youngcheol calling." Park Youngcheol is a gruff man, the kind of post-retirement ahjussi that drinks beer outside the convenience store and has a half-hour's worth of advice to share every time he runs into Hanbin in the hallway. He's kind, though, which was one of the things that sold Hanbin on the studio space. 

"Is everything okay at the building?" Hanbin asks, propping himself up in bed. 

"Everything is fine!" Youngcheol says. "Nothing is burned down or flooded, if that's what you're worried about. No, I was calling to let you know there is a power outage in the neighborhood. Something to do with the power line." 

There's something bluntly cheerful in his tone that makes Hanbin's head hurt. "So the power is out?"

"The whole building is dark," Youngcheol confirms. "They're estimating it will get fixed sometime later tonight, probably not until late. I wanted to let you know in case it might affect some of your equipment, I don't know how any of those devices work." 

"Thank you for worrying, uncle," Hanbin says, gently cutting him off. "They will be fine. Thanks for letting me know." 

When Hanbin finally gets Youngcheol off the phone, he rolls over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Jinhwan is supposed to meet him at the studio in two hours, where they'll put the finishing touches on their ballad and move onto the title tracks. He thumbs down to Jinhwan's name in his contacts, where he's still listed as _Jinani hyung_. 

"Hello?"

"We can't meet tonight."

"What's up? Why not?" 

Hanbin runs a hand down his face, touching the stubble that's formed on his upper lip and jaw. "My studio has no power. There's something up with the powerlines in the area, I don't know. It won't be back on until later."

"I know you have a home studio too. Let's just work there." 

"Can't we just wait until tomorrow?" Hanbin protests.

"I want to see your place," Jinhwan says. Hanbin can easily imagine the way Jinhwan would bat his eyelashes and crowd into Hanbin's space, the aegyo that launched a thousand favors from staff members and seniors alike over the years. "Come on."

"It's just an apartment." 

"But it's yours," Jinhwan says, like that explains everything. It doesn't, but Hanbin's still got some of his old weaknesses. 

"Fine. See you at seven."

Hanbin has two hours to clean his apartment. It's not as bad as, say, the floor of Junhwe's dorm room, but his space isn't exactly pristine either. He's a bachelor who spends almost all of his free time at work, after all. There's a stack of junk mail that hasn't made it to the recycling sitting on his kitchen counter, abandoned sunglasses and hats littering his apartment. Maybe, Hanbin thinks, that's why he can never find anything when he needs it. 

At seven on the dot, Jinhwan arrives with pizza and alcohol in hand. He is grinning sweetly when Hanbin opens the door. 

"We're working," Hanbin says, skeptical.

"Come on," Jinhwan objects. "We finished a song. That calls for a celebration."

"One song out of, what? Five?" Hanbin says, but he takes a beer anyway. Jinhwan remembered his favorite.

 

 

After several hours, they've accomplished nothing, but Hanbin is thoroughly drunk off a half-dozen beers, slumped on the floor with his head resting against the couch. Jinhwan is drinking wine from a proper wine glass that Hanbin has no memory of buying. Jinhwan had pulled it out from the back of one of Hanbin's kitchen cabinets with a triumphant _ha!_ and now he's holding the stem between his fingers like a proper connoisseur. 

"Okay, okay," Hanbin says, sitting up. If he puts on his serious face, he reasons, maybe it will clear up some of the fog clouding up his brain. "So, the title. What're the lyrics about?" 

"It's about, like—you know that feeling? Where you want to go back and do things again, but you know yourself well enough to know that if you could do it all again, you'd probably still fuck it up the same way?"

"No," Hanbin lies. 

"Well, that's what it's about," Jinhwan says. His glass is nearly empty and he downs the rest of it, tipping his head back all of the way. Hanbin watches the mechanics of Jinhwan's throat for a moment, the way his Adam's apple bobs, then looks away.

"Is that real-life inspiration, then?" Hanbin asks. 

Jinhwan shrugs. "I think most of the songs I've written were inspired more by all the different stories I heard from guys in the army. I realized that I haven't experienced a lot, not like most people my age." He is silent for a moment, then—"What about you? Have you seen anyone since—"

It feels like someone has just splashed cold water in Hanbin's face. His shoulders tense up immediately and he says, more forcefully than he intends, "Don't. Don't go there."

"Relax," Jinhwan says, though there's an edge in his voice that doesn't match the command. "It's just small talk." 

Hanbin pushes himself up off the floor, moving to the couch, just to have something to do with his hands. "What did you think about having a featured rapper in the R&B single?" He changes the subject. 

"Whatever you think is best," Jinhwan says. "I'm going to get some water."

Jinhwan is gone for what seems like an unnecessary amount of time. Hanbin waits, flicking the tab on his beer back and forth until it breaks off in his palm. He's still drunk, but he feels heavier now, the name on the tip of Jinhwan's tongue hitting him like a ton of bricks. 

When Jinhwan does reappear in the living room, he's empty-handed. "Who did you have in mind for the rapper?" he asks. Instead of going the long way around the coffee table, Jinhwan tries to squeeze between it and the couch. He's unsteady on his feet, wobbly with intoxication, and Hanbin can see him losing his balance.

It's on reflex that Hanbin reaches out, his free hand grabbing a hold of Jinhwan's hip as Jinhwan trips halfway into Hanbin's lap. Jinhwan's arms end up framing Hanbin's head, one knee slotted between Hanbin's thighs. This close, Hanbin can smell the fruit on Jinhwan's breath when he exhales, feel the warmth of it against his face. It is the closest they've been in nearly two years and Hanbin doesn't know how to process this. 

"Nihilism," Jinhwan says. 

Hanbin blinks. "What?" 

Jinhwan leans down, using his nose to brush against the bare skin at Hanbin's shoulder. The gesture sends a shiver down Hanbin's spine. "Your tattoo," he says. 

"You're crushing my leg," Hanbin says, letting his head fall back against the cushion and away from Jinhwan. 

"Sorry," Jinhwan says, and climbs unsteadily to his feet.

 

 

◄◄◄

 

 

Practice for their first end-of-year performance starts a month out. It's the most backup dancers they've ever used, at least twenty of them gathered into a rented dance studio. A few are familiar to Hanbin from other performances over the years, but most of them belong to a different crew that's been contracted out by YG. The first day of practice is long, more to figure out the blocking and changing formations than anything else. The scale of the stage is exciting, but Hanbin's brain is as tired as his body by the end of the 8 hours.

"Sunbae-nim." Hanbin looks up from his water break to see one of the dancers holding out a copy of their album, clasped in his hands like he's extending a gift. "I was hoping you could sign this for me. For my sister, I mean."

Hanbin takes the album and the permanent marker he's proffered. "What's her name?"

"Baek Taejun," he says.

"That's her name?" Hanbin asks, pausing halfway through the stock message he's scribbling to raise his eyebrow at the dancer.

He's handsome, with a square chin and wide, round eyes. He has long hair that's parted in the middle and some of the strands, damp with sweat, fall in front of his face when he ducks his head bashfully.

"I lied, it's for me," he confesses. "I don't even have a sister."

"So you're Baek Taejun, then," Hanbin says. He adds _to Taejun_ at the top of the autograph. "Do you want the rest of the members to sign?"

Taejun shakes his head. "That's nice of you, but I'm mostly B.I sunbae-nim's fan."

It's Hanbin's turn to blush. "You don't have to say that."

"It's true," Taejun insists. "I watched sunbae on Show Me the Money and I was rooting for you. _Mic check 1, 2_ ," he sing-songs. 

"That's embarrassing," Hanbin says, though he's flattered. It feels like a lifetime since he was that kid on Show Me the Money wearing tags on his snapbacks and forgetting every other lyric. These days, there aren't many of his fans that have been around that long. 

"Sunbae was cool," Taejun says. He tugs his backpack around his shoulder and a glint of metal catches Hanbin's eye. An enamel pin in the shape of a rainbow flag. Hanbin watches as Taejun tucks the signed album into his backpack, so focused on the movement of the pin that he misses Taejun's next sentence.

"What?"

"I said thank you," Taejun says, grinning. He has the kind of smile, bright and childish, that makes even cold-hearted people smile back. Or maybe it's just Hanbin who is affected by it. "I'll see you tomorrow."

 

 

Hanbin manages to scrape out four hours of sleep after leaving rehearsal. He'd taken a detour by his studio with the intention of getting the melody that had been in his head all afternoon out, but that ended up turning into the first 30 seconds of a song before he finally forced himself home. It takes twenty minutes of Yunhyeong standing in his doorway, calling his name ("Hanbin. Haaaanbin. Hanbiiiin. Dogbin—hey you hit me with that!") for Hanbin to get up and when he finally does, he feels like death warmed over. This is, of course, no different from how he feels practically every morning during promotions. 

Yunhyeong makes him eat a bowl of leftover jjigae. Chanwoo sits next to him at the table, the tinny noises of his newest mobile game obsession projecting out from his phone.

"You need to make sure you're finishing the leg move during the bridge in Strangers," Hanbin tells him, pausing to blow on the steaming bite of stew. "Otherwise it looks sloppy."

Chanwoo looks up from his phone. "Hyung, I love you, but do you just lie awake at night thinking of ways to criticize my dancing?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Yunhyeong says, patting Hanbin's thigh. "It's not just you he thinks about." 

"Just for that," Hanbin says, and holds out his spoon to point at both of them. "I'm going to be watching you even more closely today."

Except, it's not Chanwoo or Yunhyeong that Hanbin ends up paying attention to. Now that he's interacted with Taejun, Hanbin can't stop seeing him out of the corner of his eye, crossing his periphery to joke around with another dancer or practice a dance move. It's just because he's the only one of the dancers that he's has spoken to, Hanbin reasons. That's the only reason he's spent so long looking that he can now use the flop of Taejun's hair as a cue instead of the music. 

When the choreography director finally calls for a break, after at least a dozen runthroughs, Hanbin ends up standing in front of Taejun. He hadn't noticed yesterday that Taejun is taller than him by a few centimeters, so that Hanbin is at eye level with the rounded tip of his nose. Taejun smiles. "Hello again, sunbae."

"You need to make sure you're adding a bit of bounce to your arm during the _I can't take it anymore_ part," Hanbin says, demonstrating the correct motion. 

Taejun copies it, this time tensing his arm just enough to add the slight jerk to the movement that Hanbin is looking for. Hanbin nods, satisfied.

"You must have been paying close attention to notice that," Taejun says. His tone is neutral, but the corner of his mouth is upturned in the hint of a smirk. Hanbin's heart rate, having only just settled from hours of dancing, picks back up again with a startled _thump_.

"I try to pay attention to everyone," he says, because there's no way to know if this is actually flirting or if it's just the rose-colored glasses of perpetual loneliness. 

"I'll try to stand out more, then," Taejun says.

Hanbin shrugs, faux-casual. "You might not want to do that. I've been told I'm pretty mean when people make mistakes."

"Who said I'll stand out for making mistakes?" Taejun says, and yeah. This is definitely flirting. Not that Hanbin knows how to flirt, or what to say next. He flounders for a moment, opening and closing his mouth stupidly. 

Then, "Can I add you on Kakaotalk?" 

"Let me see your phone," Taejun says. Their hands brush when Hanbin passes it over. "There. I hope you use it."

"I will," Hanbin assures him.

Taejun gets called away then and Hanbin watches, trying to decide if what just did was reckless or bold. He's never exchanged numbers with anyone, not like this, certainly not a practical stranger. 

He doesn't notice that Jinhwan is standing next to him until Jinhwan coughs. "What was that about?"

"He was telling me about this store that sells rare sneakers," Hanbin says, not the first time he's used that particular lie. It passes between them easily, as long as Jinhwan doesn't notice the way Hanbin is gripping his phone tight in his hand, protecting its contents.

Jinhwan hums in acknowledgment. "Send it to me too."

 

 

►►►

 

 

"Hyung, why didn't you tell me that you were making an album with Jinhwan hyung?" is the first thing Junhwe says when Hanbin picks up the phone, bypassing any obligatory greetings.

"Because I assumed you would have heard it from him," Hanbin says. He spends a moment trying to figure out why Junhwe is asking him this now until it occurs to him that Jinhwan had posted a picture (captioned _coming soon ✌_ ) at Hanbin's studio on Instagram that afternoon. "Am I wrong?" 

"No," Junhwe concedes. "But I also wanted to hear it from you."

Hanbin rolls his eyes, knowing that Junhwe won't be able to see. "We're working on an album together. Now you've heard." 

Junhwe launches into an unprompted rant about work, and Hanbin begins to pace around his living room. In the last week, he and Jinhwan have spent more time at Hanbin's apartment than his actual studio, and wherever Hanbin looks, he can see the evidence of it. An empty can of fruit juice left on the coffee table, the extra pair of slippers in the foyer that haven't made it back into the shoe cupboard. 

"We should get together," Junhwe says suddenly. Or maybe not so suddenly, if Hanbin had been listening properly. "All of us." 

"I hate going out with you guys," Hanbin whines. "You're so noisy."

"Shut the fuck up, you're just as noisy. Also I've already texted Donghyuk."

Junhwe may be dumb, but he knows well enough that Donghyuk would love a group outing, and that Hanbin can never really say no to Donghyuk. 

"Fine," Hanbin says. Something on the floor under Hanbin's couch glints off the sunlight. When Hanbin bends down to pick it up, he realizes it's one of Jinhwan's rings, abandoned here after Jinhwan took them off a few nights ago. Hanbin pockets it. "Just tell me when and where."

"You got it, leader."

Hanbin wants to protest, because he stopped being a leader a long time ago, but Junhwe hangs up before Hanbin gets the chance. 

 

 

"All of us" isn't quite all of them. Yunhyeong won't get out of the military until the fall and Bobby is on a month-long vacation in the States before he enlists, his deadline quickly approaching. Still, it's been a long time since any of them got together in a group and despite Hanbin's whining, even just seeing Jinhwan, Junhwe, Donghyuk, and Chanwoo together at a table makes his heart clench with fondness. He'd missed this. 

Jinhwan has booked them a private room at a restaurant. This is probably for the best, because Hanbin wasn't kidding—if Junhwe is loud when he's sober, he's even worse when he's had a few drinks. 

"Wow, hyung emerged from his studio," Chanwoo says, hugging Hanbin around the knees instead of getting up. "It's a real honor that you find us worthy of your time." 

"Maybe attitudes like that are why you never see me," Hanbin jokes. He sits on the floor between Chanwoo and Donghyuk, facing Jinhwan across the table. 

Jinhwan shakes his head. "No, that's just an excuse. We know you really hate us." 

"What can I say? Leaving the house is hard." 

Chanwoo distributes shots of soju, rolling his eyes with immense exaggeration when Hanbin corrects his pouring posture. Once a maknae, always a maknae. 

"To iKON," Jinhwan announces, raising his shot glass. "To my second family. Even if we're apart, we are together in spirit. Let's stay together a long time."

When they get to reminiscing about the old days, Hanbin loses track of both time and how much meat he's consumed. 

"Do you remember that time when we snuck out of the hotel in Malaysia for Hanbin hyung's birthday?" Donghyuk asks. He sits up on his heels, his words speeding up the more excited he gets. "And Yunhyuk hyung had to come pick us up because we got lost?" 

"I really thought he was going to kill us," Chanwoo says, shaking his head. 

"At least no one recognized us that time." Donghyuk looks pointedly at Junhwe. 

Jinhwan slaps his hands against the table with such enthusiasm that it rattles his cup. "Wait, speaking of being recognized."

Hanbin, who knows where this story is going, groans out loud. "Please don't," he says. 

"So we were at dinner last week, right? And I look over and this middle school girl has been staring in our direction for, like, five minutes straight. So she finally comes over and looks at Hanbin in the eye and asks if he's B.I. And he just—" Jinhwan looks straight ahead at the table, and, after several attempts, forces his mouth into a frown. "No." 

"Glad to know we are still notable with the preteen crowd," Donghyuk says. 

"So she leaves. Then a minute later, she comes back holding up her phone and she'd searched for pictures of iKON B.I on the internet and she goes, 'See, I knew it was oppa.' And this kid here just says, 'I get that a lot.'"

"He's got the celebrity disease!" Chanwoo scoffs. 

Hanbin covers his face with his hands. "It wasn't like that! I just didn't want to deal with any attention."

"And she's still not satisfied with that," Jinhwan says, his face red with how much he's laughing at his own story. "So she drags her _mom_ over to the table and asks again. And finally Hanbin has to say yes and get a picture with her, sign an autograph, the whole thing."

"Please note that she did not recognize Jinhwan hyung through any of this," Hanbin points out. 

"She's going to write nasty comments about you on the internet," Junhwe says. He pitches his voice high and obnoxious, "B.I oppa was soooo rude." 

"She's not wrong," Donghyuk says. 

Hanbin stands up, shaking his head. Suddenly he realizes how woozy he feels, the alcohol's effects more obvious on two feet. "I'm going to the bathroom before I can be attacked any more."

"I'm coming with you," Chanwoo says, using Donghyuk's head for leverage ("Yah, watch it!") as he gets up.

The bathroom at the restaurant is almost more luxurious than the rest of its decor, all black tile and chandeliers. The basins at the sink are styled to look like Joseon pottery, white ceramic with blue floral spreads. In the gold-framed mirror, Hanbin looks closely at his own face, the way his pupils react to the light over the sink. 

"You okay?" Chanwoo asks when he joins Hanbin. 

"My face looks funny."

"Yeah, it's called being drunk," Chanwoo says, laughing. "I'm glad you're having a good time."

"Oh yeah," Hanbin says. He grabs a towel to dry his hands. "I missed you guys."

"You and Jinhwan seem to be getting along really well." 

Hanbin looks up, catching Chanwoo's face in the mirror. His expression is neutral, curious if anything, but Hanbin feels his own guards going up. "We've always gotten along." 

"It's a good thing," Chanwoo says. "You both seem happy working together." 

"Things are going well," Hanbin says. 

The door to the bathroom opens and Hanbin can hear Junhwe before he sees him. "I gotta piss," Junhwe sing-songs, straining his voice to reach a high note on the last syllable. 

Hanbin tosses his towel into the bin, slipping out of the bathroom as Junhwe and Chanwoo begin play-boxing. Back at the table, Jinhwan is typing out a message on his phone. He looks up when he sees Hanbin, smiling, and Hanbin's heart skips a precarious beat. Things are good, he'd told Chanwoo. There's no reason for anything to mess that up now.

 

 

◄◄◄

 

 

It's weeks before Hanbin's schedule is clear enough to spare a night off. When he leaves, he takes a taxi, slipping into the backseat with a face mask covering his mouth and a cap pulled down over his blonde hair. The driver is an old man, not someone who would probably recognize him as an idol anyway, but Hanbin has had the importance of discretion drilled into him enough times.

Taejun lives in Yeonnam, not too far but long enough of a drive for Hanbin to start to second-guess himself.

Hanbin is twenty-six years old and he's never dated anyone. He'd lost his virginity at twenty-one to a trainee who ended up leaving the company and since then, his list of experiences can fit comfortably on one hand. But even if it was as extensive as Jaewon's conquests, Baek Taejun would be different. He's not a nameless Japanese staff member in an arena dressing room, or a don't-ask-don't-tell hookup with a random idol. Hanbin knows him.

By now, Hanbin knows that Taejun's favorite color is red, and that his favorite iKON song is "Bling Bling," and that he favors the right side of his face when he poses for selcas. Taejun is gay and he doesn't hide it. Taejun likes Hanbin, and he doesn't hide that either. To be admired from afar is a familiar concept for Hanbin, but to be liked up close and personal is brand new territory. He has no idea what he's doing.

Taejun is grinning when he opens the door. "Hyung, I am glad you made it," he says, ushering Hanbin through the entryway. Hanbin had graduated from sunbae to hyung sometime in their first days of chatting. 

"Do you live alone?" Hanbin asks as he unlaces his sneakers. 

"No, I live with a roommate, another dancer. But I kicked him out tonight so we could have more privacy. Not that we need the privacy! He's more handsome than me anyway, so I didn't want the competition." Taejun covers his face with his hands. "Pretend I didn't say that." 

"You're fine," Hanbin says. Somehow, Taejun's own nervous energy makes Hanbin feel better, like two negatives cancelling each other out. "I don't think you need to worry about competition."

"Hyung, you are—you are gay, right? I'm not misreading?" 

Hanbin looks at the floor. Their socked feet are only a few centimeters apart. Taejun is wearing Ryan socks, which feel appropriately cute for someone like him. "I am," Hanbin says. It's the first time he's ever admitted it out loud. 

"I'm glad," Taejun says. "I mean. You know what I mean." 

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Hanbin says, nudging Taejun's foot with his toe. Ryan's face smiles back up at him.

 

 

Dating, as it turns out, is pretty nice. Taejun is a good kisser, the perfect height for Hanbin to lean up for a kiss without having to strain his neck. He doesn't talk during movies and he likes holding hands, but he never makes Hanbin feel guilty for the distance he puts between them on the rare occasions they get to leave Taejun's apartment. He mostly dances for other idols so they keep similar hours, which helps when iKON gets the green light for a comeback after the new year and Hanbin goes from having too much free time to almost none. In the absence of time spent together, Taejun sends him selcas from practice with his roommate, Minkwon, pulling faces in the background, or pictures of himself lying in bed with captions like _wish you were here_. 

There are risks. Hanbin is aware of this as well as anyone else. Idols have bounced back from dating scandals, but none from a same-sex scandal. Hanbin knows about Bobby's ex-girlfriend and the _some_ that Donghyuk is in with a girl who goes to his church, but Hanbin makes it a point not to tell anyone where he's going when he leaves for the night. The fewer people who know, the better. 

"Hanbin," Jinhwan calls out from across the practice room. "If you're done staring at your phone, we're starting now."

Hanbin tucks his phone back into his bag and climbs to his feet. "From the top!" 

 

 

"What's your ideal type?" Taejun asks one night when they're laying in bed. "And don't say me."

"Who said I was going to say you anyway?" Hanbin counters. In response, Taejun smacks his hand out lazily, the blow landing more on the pillow than Hanbin's head. "Why do you want to know so bad?" 

"I don't know. Just curious." 

Hanbin rolls over to look at him. Taejun has a large tattoo across his rib cage, intricately lined flowers that spread up from his hips to his breastbone. It's one of Hanbin's favorite things about Taejun's body, the way the delicate shading of the flowers contrasts with the muscles under his skin. He reaches out, idly tracing a fingertip along the curve of the rose. "I usually like guys that are shorter than me, I guess, but there are obvious exceptions. Is it shallow to say that I like good-looking people?"

"What about personality?"

"I'm not good with people, you know that," Hanbin says. "I like people who aren't hurt easily."

"So like tough guys?" Taejun says, pretending to flex his arm muscles. Hanbin leans over and presses a quick kiss to the swell of his bicep. 

"No, not tough. I don't know how to describe it. Someone who is stubborn like me. And who has a good sense of humor."

"Is anyone in your group like that?" Taejun asks. Hanbin's fingers still.

"No one," Hanbin says immediately. "Why do you ask?" 

Taejun leans into Hanbin, tucking his head against Hanbin's shoulder. The gesture feels oddly pacifying. "I'm just curious, that's all. Don't you want to know about my ideal type?" 

"What s it?" 

"You." 

"That's cheating," Hanbin complains. "You said I couldn't say that." 

"What are you going to do about it?" Taejun asks, and what else is Hanbin supposed to do except roll on top of Taejun and smother him with a pillow.

 

 

►►►

 

 

By the end of the month, four songs have been approved by the team at Jinhwan's label. It's one of the easiest albums that Hanbin has put together, contrary to the nervous looks that Hanbin had received when he'd told everyone he was working with Jinhwan. Which, to be fair, were not entirely misplaced. Hanbin had expected more tension, more clashing of opinions, but Jinhwan has been surprisingly deferent to Hanbin's expertise, and in turn Hanbin has let some of his rough edges soften. It feels almost like old times ( _ancient_ times), before disappointments turned them both thorny.

There are still certain things they don't talk about. This is for the best.

At the end of another work day, Jinhwan swivels around in his chair to look at Hanbin. "What are you doing the week after next?"

Hanbin racks his brain. "Nothing that I know of? Why?"

"Do you want to come to California with me?" 

 

 

They leave on an evening flight, seats next to each other in business class. Hanbin spends the first few hours scratching down lyrics in his notebook, then listening to the rough cut of Jinhwan's album until the lights go off and he falls asleep. There's a layover in San Francisco, then a short flight to Palm Springs and an hour-long car ride before they finally make it to Joshua Tree. 

The location they'll be shooting as well as staying in is a sprawling complex, a huge main house with another guest house and a camper on the property. There's a fire pit surrounded by chairs and a pool that faces out directly onto the desert. The area is secluded, no other houses in sight. The view, craggy rock faces in the distance and those funny-looking trees, spiny branches reaching up toward the sky, is unobstructed for miles. Hanbin can't help but imagine coming here as a group, hiking through the unspoiled terrain and roasting marshmallows under the night sky. It would've been fun. 

The rest of the crew had arrived the day before to get things set up for filming, so even after fourteen hours of travel, Jinhwan is immediately pulled into hair and makeup. There's a model coming in for the music video filming tomorrow, but tonight will be devoted to the album photobook and whatever solo cuts the director wants to fit in before they lose too much of the sunlight. 

Hanbin puts his things in one of the bedrooms, then follows the trail of staff members to the makeshift dressing room, where three different women are fussing over Jinhwan. 

"Hanbin, I didn't know you were coming," one of the makeup artists says, turning around with a warm smile. Hanbin recognizes her from previous photoshoots. 

"He's just here for moral support," Jinhwan explains. 

"No, I'm just here for the scenery," Hanbin says. He settles into an armchair across from the bed, watching the makeup artist smudge eyeliner into Jinhwan's waterline. Hanbin has always thought that Jinhwan's face suited makeup. "Are you going to be painting on some abs too?" 

Jinhwan kicks his foot out, but he's too far away to make the intended contact with Hanbin's shin. "Ha ha," he says dryly. 

The makeup artist finishes Jinhwan's eyes. "Tilt your head back," she instructs. Jinhwan dutifully follows. With a new brush, she brushes a pinky lip color, just a shade brighter than Jinhwan's natural color, in a smooth, crisp line along his cupid's bow. His eyes are closed, mouth parted, and Hanbin thinks about the meaning of the word scenery.

 

 

◄◄◄

 

 

From the start, it's been one of those days where everyone, from the members to the staff to the janitors roaming the halls of the dome, seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. One of their managers snaps at Donghyuk in the morning and Donghyuk spends the next few hours quietly fuming, while Yunhyeong drops his phone on his way out of the van and shatters the screen. Ten minutes before going on stage, Bobby trips over one of the coordi's cases and somehow manages to hit a chair on his way down, his wrist taking the brunt of the fall. Hanbin get tongue-tied over his Japanese lyrics and can't even come up with the right ones in Korean to compensate. It's like the stars have aligned to create a day where anything that can go wrong will.

This is why Hanbin should have made sure everyone stayed in their hotel room after the concert, should have done the responsible leaderly thing and put a ban on exploring Tokyo for the night. But Hanbin is tired, and grumpy, and he wants to talk to Taejun.

It's only an hour after they've made it back to the hotel that Hanbin's conversation with Taejun is interrupted by a call from his manager. 

"There was an incident in the lobby," Jaeho says, his voice as serious as Hanbin has ever heard it. Vivid images of sasaeng fans, an injury, and, inexplicably, something on _fire_ flash through Hanbin's mind. "I'm sending everyone up to your room for a meeting. You can deal with them. I'll meet you in the hall to explain." 

The gist is—Junhwe and Jinhwan had gone out drinking. They'd made it back to the hotel without any problems, but the doors had already been locked for the night and neither had their key card. This resulted in Junhwe banging on the lobby doors, finding the whole situation much more amusing than the disgruntled night manager had when he'd jerked open the doors and the two of them stumbled in. There was an argument, Jaeho says. Filtered through secondhand accounts and their Japanese tour manager, the details are vague, but all Hanbin can think is that causing a drunken disturbance at a foreign hotel is definitely the kind of thing that tarnishes a reputation. Hanbin has long accepted what Korean commenters have to say about iKON's attitude problems, but the last thing they need is to turn another country against them. 

"It sounds like the night manager overreacted," Jaeho admits. He pulls off his glasses so that he can rub his eyes. "But it should've never happened in the first place."

"I understand," Hanbin says. "I will talk to everyone."

"If they're not going to be responsible for themselves, I need you to be."

Hanbin lowers his head apologetically, bidding Jaeho and the other staff members good night. When he turns to the hotel room door, his jaw is clenched, the mask of politeness dropping away. His worry is quickly mutating to anger. 

Inside, the other six are spread out across the room. Donghyuk and Chanwoo sitting on Hanbin's bed, Bobby in the desk chair with his legs stretched out on top of the desk. Yunhyeong is pacing. Junhwe at least has the decency to look like a chastised child, leaning against the wall with his head pointed down at the floor. Jinhwan, on the other hand, sits on the ottoman with his arms folded across his chest and his mouth twisted into a scowl. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Hanbin asks. He runs a hand down his face, then starts again. "We have another concert tomorrow. We need to be out of the hotel in six hours. You should've just come back and gone to bed. Drink in your own fucking room." 

"That's ridiculous," Jinhwan says. "We've done this hundreds of times now. One or two less hours of sleep isn't going to make a difference."

"That's not the point." 

Jinhwan sits up a little straighter and Hanbin can tell that he's getting heated, too, energized by the argument. "You just said-"

"We were being stupid, but it wasn't really a big deal," Junhwe cuts in, still looking at his feet. "The hotel guy was being overdramatic." 

"I don't care. You have to think about how your actions affect the band and the way that people look at us."

"You really want to talk about how what we do affects the way people look at us?"

Hanbin frowns, confused. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"You think we don't know?" Jinhwan asks with a little laugh, casually cruel in a way that takes all the air from Hanbin's lungs. "How are people going to react when they find out that you've got a secret boyfriend?" 

It's Bobby who moves first. While Hanbin is rooted to the spot, muscles rigid with shock, Bobby stands up. "Dude, stop." 

"You think that you should be the one to lecture us about image?" Jinhwan says, getting to his feet like he's going to advance forward. "Maybe you should worry about yourself first."

Before Jinhwan can do anything, Yunhyeong pulls on Jinhwan's arm. "Hyung, you need to take a breather. Let's go." When Jinhwan resists, Chanwoo grabs a hold of him from the other side. 

"I've got it," Jinhwan snaps. He pushes through them to the door, his shoulder clipping Hanbin's on the way out, with Chanwoo and Yunhyeong following closely behind him. 

The door closes after them. The room is quiet, no one speaking, but Hanbin can hear his own heartbeat in his ears, loud and erratic. Jinhwan's words are looping in his head, each _you think we don't know?_ punctuated with a sneer. They've fought, exchanged heated words before, but Jinhwan has never been vicious just for the sake of it. Hanbin feels gutted, layers of skin peeled back to reveal the secrets he's so heavily guarded over the years, his viscera exposed. 

When Hanbin's eyes finally focus on his surroundings, no one is looking at him, and he's grateful. "How long have you known?"

"It doesn't matter," Donghyuk says immediately, like he'd just been waiting for his cue in order to say this. "Hyung, we don't care. I wish you would have told us, but I know it's not easy."

"You're still hyung," Junhwe mumbles. 

Bobby, with his fists balled up in his hoodie pocket, looks past Hanbin to the door. "I'm going to kill him."

"Just leave him alone," Hanbin says, not that he would mind letting Bobby punch Jinhwan right now. "He's not wrong." 

"Of course he's wrong. If anyone has a problem with you, that's not your fault. You don't have to change who you are to protect our image," Bobby says. 

"I don't know what to say," Hanbin admits. He closes his eyes. "I thought if I could keep going like this—"

Hanbin can feel arms wrap around him and he knows it's Donghyuk. He lets himself lean into it, the tension in his shoulders seeping out. Donghyuk's hold is firm, steady. Hanbin thinks for a moment that if anyone should have a problem with him, it should be Donghyuk, the boy who lives by the scripture, but Donghyuk is here beside him anyway. He lets his head rest on Donghyuk's shoulder and breathes in the scent of his shampoo.

 

 

►►►

 

 

The second morning of the shoot starts earlier than Hanbin would like. He'd try to go back to sleep, but there's too much sunlight streaming in through his bedroom curtains and besides, the flurry of action outside of his door is only going to get louder as the morning progresses. At the kitchen bar, Jinhwan's feet swing out as he eats soybean soup. Hanbin sits and Jinhwan hooks a foot around his ankle, a fleeting gesture before he's turning in the other direction to ask his manager a question.

The model shows up after breakfast. She's a girl-next-door type, pretty in a way that isn't intimidating, with a light dusting of freckles across her cheeks and a big, warm smile. She is, more importantly, shorter and smaller than Jinhwan. When she takes off her robe at the pool, Hanbin is struck by her slender waist and the delicate lines of her collarbones. 

"She was a good choice," one of the crew says to Hanbin absently. "They look good together."

"They do," Hanbin agrees. Without realizing it, he's torn the label of his water bottle to shreds. 

It's different, being around Jinhwan while surrounded by other people. Hanbin hadn't realized how insulated they'd been the last few weeks, contained within the studio or Hanbin's apartment in their own personal bubble. The real world seems to cast a new light on the tenuousness of their friendship. Hanbin isn't sure that he wanted to see it like this. 

By mid-morning, the temperature is hot enough to take Hanbin's breath away and the crew moves inside. It's been a long time since Hanbin filmed a music video like this and he'd forgotten how tedious of a process it can be. He watches Jinhwan film the same lip-synched portion while the model rolls around on the bed behind him five different times until the director is satisfied. 

Hanbin shoots him a thumbs up from behind the camera. 

 

 

It's well past dark by the time they finally wrap up for the night. There will be another few scenes to film during tomorrow's sunset, but twelve hours of work have paid off. Hanbin had abandoned the set halfway through to work on music in the camper, inspired by the desert scenery and the restless, humming energy under his skin. 

The whole crew goes out for pizza that night. They take up half of the restaurant, spilling out of booths and shouting across tables. Hanbin loses a game of bunny bunny and has to drink the remaining half of a beer pitcher, so he's stumbling when they leave, arm draped over Jinhwan for support. 

Back at the house, while the rest of the crew are turning in for the night, Jinhwan knocks on Hanbin's door. "Come to the pool with me?" he asks. 

The air is still hot outside, but without the sun beating down on them, it feels more like a cozy blanket than the inside of an oven. The pool is set far enough away from the main house that it's entirely dark except for the moonlight and the glow from the lanterns they'd grabbed from the back porch on their way out. When Hanbin turns back, he can see people moving inside the house, but he knows that no one can see them. It's a little spooky. 

"Are there bears out here?" Hanbin asks, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he peers around in the dark. 

Jinhwan is already stripping off his shirt. "I hope not."

"Reassuring," Hanbin says. 

"There's a fence around the property anyway," Jinhwan says, and as though to emphasis his lack of fear, he cannonballs into the pool. 

Drops of water from the subsequent splash hit Hanbin in the face and his competitive spirit kicks in. "Watch out, I'll get you back," he says, diving into the pool. 

The two of them wrestle in the water until Jinhwan, between panting breaths, calls a ceasefire. While Jinhwan climbs out of the pool and begins to towel off, Hanbin swims laps, feeling the flow of warm water over his arms and legs, smoothing out the tension in his muscles. He emerges from the pool feeling loose-limbed and relaxed. 

That is, until Jinhwan asks, out of the blue, "Why did you come with me?" 

Hanbin sinks down into the lounge chair next to Jinhwan, pulling his knees up to his chest. "No, you first. Why did you invite me?" 

"Demanding," Jinhwan says without any real bite. His eyes are illuminated by the glow of the lantern, blinking slowly as he thinks. "Because I wanted to spend more time with you. I wasn't expecting you to agree. Why did you?" 

"I wanted to see how long we could keep avoiding the elephant in the room," Hanbin answers. 

Around them, the night is quiet. Over the rustling of tree branches in the wind, Hanbin can hear Jinhwan's sharp intake of air. "Are we having this argument now?"

"No time like the present." 

"Okay," Jinhwan says, rolling over so that he's lying on his side, looking at Hanbin. "Let's fight, then."

"You never apologized," Hanbin says. He surprises himself with how quickly he blurts it out, as though the words were just waiting to be spilled. "Not for what you said, not for what you—" Hanbin takes a breath to steady himself. "Not for what you did, either."

"I couldn't have apologized then. I didn't think I was wrong," Jinhwan admits. "I was so angry at everything, not just you, but yeah, I was angry at you too."

Something hot and acidic bubbles up in the pit of Hanbin's stomach. "Why? What did I ever do to you?" 

Jinhwan snorts. "You could be such a dictator sometimes. It wasn't about perfectionism, it was about you being petty. You were so wrapped up in proving yourself that it didn't matter who you hurt along the way."

"That's not true." 

"I know it wasn't all your fault, but by the end, it felt like you had everything and I just couldn't stand it. So you wouldn't have wanted my apology back then, anyway." 

"You don't know that," Hanbin says. In the distance, there is the sound of an airplane flying overhead, a low rumble that cuts through the bird chirps and gusting wind. "I wasn't out to anyone then. Do you know how that felt? And then you used it against me to what, win a fight? To make me feel bad?"

Hanbin stares straight ahead to the pool, the reflection of the quarter moon in the water. He can't look at Jinhwan when he says this. "I was so in love with you when I was a teenager and then things got so fucked up. It felt like you were looking at this piece of me that I was trying to hide and _mocking_ it." 

"It wasn't like that." Jinhwan hesitates. "It may have seemed like it, but it wasn't. When I found out that you were dating a guy, I wasn't mad because I thought you were going to ruin our image. I was jealous." 

For a moment, Hanbin is sure that his heart stops. When he feels it again, his heartbeat is as heavy as a bass drum against his ribs. "Don't say that if you don't mean it," Hanbin says, his voice hardly more than a whisper. 

"It was a confusing feeling," Jinhwan says. Hanbin shuts his eyes. "I didn't want it to be someone else who made you happy. I resented you so much, but I still wanted to fuck you." 

"And now?"

"Haven't you noticed? Nothing has changed." 

When Hanbin opens his eyes, dares to turn his face away from the pool, Jinhwan is watching him. His hand is tucked under his head, mouth parted slightly, expression unreadable. It's on instinct that Hanbin reaches out, brushing Jinhwan's bangs out of his eyes. 

"And you?" Jinhwan asks. His breath comes out in warm puffs against Hanbin's wrist. 

"I don't know," Hanbin says. "I—"

Jinhwan's mouth lands just off-center, catching the corner of Hanbin's lips.. "Sorry," Jinhwan mumbles, and then he's climbing onto Hanbin's chair with an awkward little roll that Hanbin would find funny if he wasn't busy with a lap full of Kim Jinhwan. 

The second kiss is better. Hanbin's upper lip slots against Jinhwan's and he thinks, for a single pathetic moment, that it feels right. Jinhwan's hands come up to cup Hanbin's cheeks, sliding around to the sides of his head. Everywhere they're touching—Jinhwan's thighs framing Hanbin's lap, chests pressed together, cocks rubbing up against each other through their underwear—feels ablaze with heat. Hanbin feels a few seconds away from spontaneous combustion. Which is to say, he's hard already from only kissing and knows that if they keep this up, he will come in his pants like a horny teenager. 

Hanbin jerks his head back for air. His lips are wet with spit and they're both breathing like they've just finished a full set of choreography. Jinhwan takes advantage of the new space between them to run his hands over Hanbin's chest, down his ribcage to the tattoo at his hip then back up to the words inked across his shoulder, stopping to swipe his thumb over one of Hanbin's nipples. Hanbin's gasp seems especially loud in this quiet, intimate bubble they're in and his face, if possible, goes even warmer. Jinhwan smiles devilishly. 

Jinhwan leans down to kiss him again. Hanbin's hands find a resting spot at Jinhwan's hip bones, and he brings his knees up, forcing Jinhwan closer to him. 

"We should go inside," Jinhwan says against Hanbin's mouth. "My room has a backdoor through the patio." 

It's a monumental task for Hanbin to gather his clothes and slip into his sneakers to walk back across the yard to the house. Jinhwan is close on his heels and Hanbin nearly brings them both down when he trips over his untied laces. Jinhwan's laugh is short and nasally, and it makes Hanbin laugh too, so much so that he has to cover his mouth when they reach the porch. 

"Sorry, it's a mess," Jinhwan whispers when he pushes open the door. The past 24 hours have been far too busy to worry about neatness. Hanbin throws his shirt on top of the pile at the foot of the bed. There's only a lamp on in the room, but it's brighter in here than it was outside. Hanbin suddenly feels exposed as he sits on the bed, arms folded across his chest. Jinhwan comes closer, touches Hanbin's damp hair with his hand. "Hey. Is this okay?" 

"Yeah," Hanbin says. His voice comes out hoarse. He licks his lips and tries again. "It's okay." 

Jinhwan ducks his head in, kissing Hanbin hard on the mouth. Hanbin lets himself be pushed back against the blankets, Jinhwan crawling on top of him again. Jinhwan's tongue slips into his mouth, demanding. It's been a long time since Hanbin let himself imagine kissing Jinhwan, but he's always figured it would feel something like this. Jinhwan, who could burn as hot and unpredictable as a firecracker, calling the shots. It wouldn't be like Jinhwan to have it any other way. 

"Did you let him fuck you?" Jinhwan asks, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Hanbin's neck and jaw.

The sound of Jinhwan's voice, the vulgarity of it, goes straight to Hanbin's dick. His nails rake down Jinhwan's back as Hanbin arches up, looking for friction. "Who?"

"Your ex-boyfriend. Anyone." 

"I prefer—" Hanbin cuts himself off before he can get the next word out, embarrassed. "I like receiving more." 

Jinhwan looks at him for a moment, as though taking this information in, then kisses Hanbin with such fervor that their foreheads knock together. "Can I fuck you?" Jinhwan asks, muffled against Hanbin's mouth. 

"I need to shower," Hanbin says. 

"Ah, that's okay," Jinhwan says. He runs a hand up the inside of Hanbin's swim trunks, letting his fingers come to rest against the edge of his briefs. Jinhwan's fingers are cool against too-warm skin. "We can do something else." 

Hanbin ends up on his side with Jinhwan behind him, expensive hand cream smeared along the insides of his thighs, Jinhwan's cock rubbing against his balls with every thrust. Jinhwan keeps kissing and biting at Hanbin's shoulders, leaning up to whisper things like _I always thought about fucking you in the practice room with all those mirrors around us_ in Hanbin's ear. It's fitting that Jinhwan, who always viewed sex appeal as a craft to be mastered, would talk dirty like this. Hanbin is flushed red all over, embarrassed but far too turned on to mind it. 

They are pressed together everywhere, chest to back, but Hanbin wants Jinhwan even closer. He reaches a hand back, grappling for whatever skin he can touch, pulling Jinhwan right up against him by the hip. His other hand touches his own cock, pumping it in rhythm with the Jinhwan's movements. "I'm close," he says, breathless. 

Jinhwan pushes Hanbin's hand away, replacing it with his own. It only takes a few strokes before Hanbin is coming, fucking into Jinhwan's hand as he bites down on the pillow to keep from groaning. 

"God," Jinhwan says, and then he's coming too, hot and wet against Hanbin's thighs and cock. 

He rubs his cock through the mess experimentally, until Hanbin shivers and mumbles out, "Hyung, it's too much." 

"Sorry." Jinhwan leans up and kisses the swell of Hanbin's cheek apologetically.

 

 

◄◄◄

 

 

The silent treatment manages to last through two more tour stops and multiple rehearsals. Hanbin interacts with Jinhwan only when he can't avoid it, like for the scripted bits of their ments or when Jinhwan is passing out bento boxes at lunch. Otherwise, Hanbin keeps his distance. If the staff members notice the lingering chill in the air, no one comments on it.

Hanbin's wide berth doesn't escape the attention of their fans, who have already started flooding his Instagram with comments like _what's wrong with b.i oppa and jinhwan oppa_ after Osaka, but being within five feet of Jinhwan makes his stomach lurch unpleasantly. It's not worth it. 

Back in Korea, Hanbin stops by the dorm long enough to drop his suitcase off and wash the stale airplane air off in the shower before returning to his studio. He makes a new song in two hours that's more noise than music, all percussion and power chords, then drags it to his recycle bin without giving it a second listen. He has written love songs, songs about bitter breakups and slow, eventual declines, but there's no song for this particular blend of anger and _hurt_. 

It's dawn outside of his studio window, the sky yellow-tinged and hazy, and Hanbin is half-asleep sitting up at his desk when someone barges through his door. 

Hanbin sort of expects to see Raesung or even Teddy, but it's Jinhwan who is standing in the doorway. He's unsteady on his feet, that characteristic drunken sway evident in his posture when he leans against the doorframe. His eyes are glassy under the fluorescent lights of the studio.

"What do you want?" Hanbin asks. It doesn't come out quite as cutting as he'd like, more sleep-deprived than sharp.

Jinhwan is across the room in three strides. He moves so quickly that Hanbin's brain doesn't have time to process anything—Jinhwan being here, Jinhwan right in front of him, Jinhwan at eye level—before there are hands on his face and he's being kissed. The kiss isn't gentle, Jinhwan's mouth pushing against Hanbin's with searing force. For a moment, Hanbin is sure that he's dreaming, because it feels like something he could've conjured up in his sleep at seventeen when 50% of his thoughts were devoted to kissing Jinhwan. 

It's on instinct that Hanbin kisses back. He lets his mouth open under Jinhwan's, the soft curve of Jinhwan's upper lip slotting between his own. Jinhwan's hands are holding Hanbin around the back of his head, a thumb brushing against the shell of one of Hanbin's ears. The gesture feels weirdly soft and misplaced considering the way Hanbin can feel Jinhwan's teeth in the kiss. 

Jinhwan makes noise, a low whine in the back of his throat, and the spell is broken. With startled clarity, Hanbin is reminded that he is not seventeen anymore and he's furious with Jinhwan and he has a _boyfriend_. 

Hanbin doesn't have time to dwell on the order of importance in which these thoughts occur to him. He pushes back in his desk chair, wheels squeaking against the floor. The door is still fucking open. Jinhwan stumbles forward without Hanbin's body for support, catching himself on the desk. 

"What the fuck?" Hanbin asks. He covers his mouth with his hand, then jerks it away when he realizes he's feeling the memory of Jinhwan's kiss. "What are you doing?" 

"I know that you want to," Jinhwan says. 

"I don't," Hanbin says. 

He stands and crosses over to close the door, just to do something with the nervous energy he feels coursing through his veins. When he turns back around, Jinhwan is crowding into his space agan. 

"You did, at some point," he says. 

"It doesn't matter," Hanbin says, even as it feels like his throat is constricting. "You need to go home. You're drunk, you're always drunk."

"Oh fuck you," Jinhwan says. Like he's the one who gets to be annoyed. 

There are footsteps in the hallway and Hanbin thinks that he can recognize the sound of Yedam's voice, passing by on the way to his own studio spot. Hanbin is grateful that it wasn't two minutes ago, because he doesn't need anyone else finding out his secrets. 

"Why are you doing this to me?" Hanbin asks. 

Jinhwan starts and stops his sentence at least twice, his words slurring together. "Because you're gay," he finally says with a frustrated huff of air. 

"Yeah, I am. So?" 

"You—"

"No, you know what? I'm leaving," Hanbin says. He pats his pocket down for his phone, then tugs his mask up to cover his mouth. He can't stand to be here any longer. "Lock the door behind you." 

 

 

 

Hanbin breaks up with Taejun a day and a half later. It's still early into spring, but it's unseasonably warm, and the spot on the river where Hanbin had asked Taejun to meet him is crowded with families and couples. Still, they manage to find a bench out of the way, where Hanbin can pull down his face mask without feeling too exposed. 

"So, you're breaking up with me," Taejun says when they're sitting. He's fresh from practice, his long hair tied back into a short ponytail. He manages to look handsome even like this. 

"What gave you that idea?" Hanbin says, wincing at Taejun's blunt words. 

Taejun laughs, but it doesn't quite meet his eyes. "Hyung, I know you've never dated anyone, but when you text someone 'we need to talk', it's never a good sign." He reaches out, touching Hanbin's knee. "Did something happen in Japan?"

Hanbin hopes that Taejun doesn't feel him flinch. "Why?" 

"I don't know. You've been kind of ghosting me since you got back."

"I just," Hanbin starts, then lets himself trail off. He'd rehearsed what he wanted to say, not quite a lie but not the whole truth of it either. Practice and execution, however, are two different beasts. "I think I realized how risky this is. I can't keep looking over my shoulder or worrying. It's too hard, and it's not fair to you."

Taejun's hand squeezes around Hanbin's kneecap. "You don't get to decide what's fair to me," he says. When he pulls his hand away, Hanbin has to resist the impulse to reach out for it. "But it sounds like you've already made up your mind."

"I'm sorry," Hanbin says. He is sincerely, desperately sorry. There is a part of him that knows he doesn't have to do this, who wants to kiss Taejun and say he didn't mean any of this, but there is a larger, terrified part of him that wants to put all distance between himself and interpersonal relationships. 

"Kim Hanbin," Taejun says, a bit of mania seeping into his voice. "Do you know how many songs you've ruined for me? That's kind of unfair." 

Hanbin feels his face crumple, but he can't quite tell if it's a laugh or a cry, or maybe a little bit of both. "I apologize on behalf of your playlists." 

They hug for a long time, with a soundtrack of seagulls chirping and kids squealing in the background. Hanbin would rather it be raining, like it always is in movies. His first boyfriend. His first breakup. He should've known it would be inevitable.

Hanbin leaves first. He gets a few steps away from the bench, shoulders steeled, when Taejun calls out his name. 

"I know that it's not just about the risks. For what it's worth, I hope that whatever's going on? You figure it out. You deserve to be happy." 

Right now, Hanbin isn't convinced.

 

 

►►►

 

 

Hanbin wakes with a start. It's still dark outside and it takes him a minute to get his bearings. An unfamiliar view out of the window, an unfamiliar bed. Then, he realizes that his arm is pressed against Jinhwan's, and it all comes flooding back with startling clarity. He hadn't been drunk, but he'd been tipsy enough to let his words spill out freely, tipsy enough to forget that he's still mad at Jinhwan and that this should've never happened.

He rolls out of bed as quietly as he can. Jinhwan shifts, tugging the bedspread up to his chin, but he's otherwise still. Hanbin finds his still-damp swim trunks and underwear next to the bed, then he grabs the first shirt he sees.

Back in his own room, Hanbin's heart is racing as he hastily packs his things. The only refrain running through his head is that he needs to get out of here. He needs to leave. It's only when he steps out into the kitchen, intent on leaving, that he realizes—he doesn't know how to call a car on his own. 

Jinhwan's manager answers the knock on his door with a groggy, "Huh? Hanbin?" 

"How can I get a car back to the airport?" Hanbin says quietly. 

The manager looks at him with a puzzled expression and Hanbin adds a "Please?" that he hopes doesn't come off as desperate as he feels. 

"Okay. I'll get you a ride to the airport. But it's going to be expensive, you know."

"I don't care," Hanbin says. "And please don't tell Jinhwan until after he wakes up. It's a family emergency."

Fifteen minutes later, Hanbin is in the back of an SUV to the airport. The car smells too strongly of cologne and he develops a headache almost immediately, but luckily the driver doesn't feel compelled to talk to him. It's one of the longest rides of Hanbin's life. Even as he gazes out the window at the passing scenery, he keeps getting flashes of the way he'd begged, pathetic, and Jinhwan's mouth against his shoulder blade. He should've known better. 

 

 

Hanbin turns his phone off after stumbling through an exchange of broken English at the ticket counter in order to buy an absurdly expensive flight out of Palm Springs, and he doesn't turn it back on until he lands. 

Bobby picks up his phone on the third ring. "Hellooooooo." 

"Where are you right now?" Hanbin asks. 

"I'm at my brother's house, babysitting. Why, what's up?" 

"Could you maybe come pick me up at the airport?" 

There is a rustling on the other end of the phone line and Hanbin can hear Bobby shushing Raon. "Aren't you supposed to be in California? What airport?" 

Hanbin looks around him. There is a small child wearing a baseball cap and neon Crocs sitting on the bench next to him, and when Hanbin makes eye contact, he scoots as far away as he can. "Um. Fairfax?" 

 

 

Bobby is driving his sister-in-law's minivan when he arrives. Raon is in the back, strapped into a booster seat, and he looks up from his Switch long enough to wave at Hanbin. 

"So," Bobby says. 

"Can we get something to eat before we have to talk about it?" Hanbin says, burying his face in his hands. 

In the bathroom of a fast food restaurant, Hanbin notices, for the first time, the purple and pink bruises dotted under his jaw and down his neck. His face flushes red and he fiddles with the collar of his jacket, hoping to cover them up, but the hickeys are still easily visible. Hanbin briefly wonders if he can explain this away as a coyote attack. 

They find a table at the back of the restaurant. Raon has grown a full foot since Hanbin last saw him and he comes up to Bobby's shoulder as they sit across from him, sharing a 12-piece chicken nugget meal. 

"So," Bobby starts again. "Did you get lost on your way home from California? I hate to tell you, but Korea, Virginia and South Korea are not the same thing." 

"There's a Korea, Vir—never mind. Look, hyung, I just wanted to talk to someone who would understand." 

Hanbin fills Bobby in on everything that he's missed while out of the country. Some of it he's already heard, like working with Jinhwan on his album, but some of it, like working alone at his apartment with Jinhwan late into the night, is new. "So, the crew was all out drinking last night and it's not like either of us were totally drunk, but he asked if I wanted to go to the pool. And we started talking about what happened between us and I said some things, he said some things. Then we." Hanbin stops. 

Bobby cuts his eyes to Raon, who is pleasantly oblivious as he eats a mouthful of waffle fries. 

"Then we high-fived," Hanbin says. Bobby nods approvingly. 

"I can tell you high-fived, by the way," Bobby says, gesturing at Hanbin's neck. Hanbin attempts to sink into his jacket. "But that doesn't explain why you're here. I mean, as much as I love seeing you, dude, what do you think is going to happen when he wakes up and you're not there?" 

"I don't know. I just needed to get away."

"If you want me to beat him up, just say the word," Bobby says, miming an uppercut and then a jab. 

"Uncle, violence is never the answer," Raon says. 

Bobby pokes Raon in the cheek with a fry. "Are you done eating? Go play. Uncle Hanbin and I need to talk about grown-up things." 

For a moment, it looks like Raon might protest his exclusion, but then he runs off toward the jungle gym. Bobby watches him go, then turns a pointed look at Hanbin. "So, what's the problem?"

"What do you mean 'what's the problem'? You know what happened between us. He can't just come waltzing back into my life and then say he always wanted to _bang_ me and that's the end of the discussion. Like being attracted to me is a reason for being a dick." Hanbin slumps back in his seat, exhausted by the monologue. 

"First of all, you were both dicks," Bobby says, and he continues over Hanbin's protest. "Not at the same time, necessarily, but it's not like you were never harsh either. I'm not saying that two wrongs make a right, but he wasn't the only one lashing out back then." 

This is true, but it doesn't mean that Hanbin likes to hear it. 

"Have you ever thought about, like, how Jinhwan has always tried to be this sexy, masculine guy? He hates not being able to control what other people think about him," Bobby says. "And I know it's not easy for you being gay, especially with your dad, but he's from a very traditional family. Are there even any gay people in Jeju?" 

"Hyung, there are gay people everywhere." 

Bobby reaches across the table, dunking his fry into Hanbin's abandoned barbecue sauce. "I guess that's not the point. You've always been the kind of person who knows what you want and nothing can stop you. I just think you should consider, maybe, that it was hard for him in different ways. And how that might affect how he feels about you. But I guess what ultimately matters is how you feel."

The follow-up question goes unasked— _So, how_ do _you feel?_ —but it hangs in the air between them. Hanbin tries to drown out all the English conversations around him, the sounds of kids crying and orders being taken up front. In meditation, Hanbin practices building an awareness of his thoughts, but everything he feels now is jumbled up in a mix of confusion and guilt. Maybe it's obvious on his face, because Bobby nudges his foot under the table. 

"You don't have to decide anything now," Bobby reminds him. Then, as if to shake off the sentimentality of it, Bobby wriggles in his seat, doing a full-body shimmy. "I'm sorry, you should've gone to Yunhyeong or someone else who knows anything about romance."

"You did good, hyung," Hanbin says. 

He can feel his phone in his pocket like a brick weighing him down.

 

 

►

 

 

After going nearly a year and a half without speaking to him, Hanbin honestly expected that ignoring Jinhwan wouldn't be difficult. He didn't account for the fact that, after weeks spent working together, there's no way that Jinhwan's absence from his life could not feel conspicuous. Even on his way back to Korea, after being graciously kicked off of Jiun's couch, Hanbin finds Jinhwan's ring in his pocket and feels the world tilt off its axis for a moment.

His manager calls a week after he's gotten back from California, the first call or text he's responded to recently that wasn't his mom . "Dazed wants to interview you and Jinhwan about working on the album," Kim Dohee says. Hanbin can hear the soft tap of her keyboard in the background and he pictures Dohee at her desk, responding to emails with one hand and drinking coffee with the other, phone tucked under her ear. Every time Hanbin goes into the office, she's always doing fifteen things at once. "Are you going to be free the afternoon before the release party?"

He'd forgotten about the party, scheduled before they'd even left to shoot the music video. "I'm not going," Hanbin says. 

She snorts at him. "Of course you are," she says. "You haven't produced a full album in months and it's Kim Jinhwan's first release after iKON. It's kind of a big deal." 

Hanbin looks at the suitcase still sprawled out on his bedroom floor. Without meaning to, his eyes zero in on the edge of his swim trunks poking out from under a pile of socks and underwear. Everything these days seems to remind him of Jinhwan. "I just can't," he tells Dohee. 

"You really can. Do you want me to schedule the interview for that afternoon?"

"How about a couple days later? That'll work right?" Hanbin says, sighing. He doesn't want the first time that he sees Jinhwan since hooking up serving as fodder for an interview. 

"We can do that," Dohee says. "I'll see you at the party. Don't be late."

 

 

The album release party is being hosted on the rooftop of a trendy hotel in Myeongdong. When Hanbin arrives—ten minutes late, which barely even counts as late—he is, thankfully, flagged down by Donghyuk right away. The bar is divided into both an indoor section with a sleek bar and an outdoor section, leading out to a view of Namsan Tower. Donghyuk has commandeered a table outside for the four of them and he leads Hanbin through the crowd at the bar, shouting to be heard over the noise. 

"My kids made it to the final!" Donghyuk says. He gestures for Hanbin to take the seat across from Junhwe. "There's going to be a big performance with live voting, you should come?"

"Don't you think it's a bit hypocritical for you to celebrate a survival show after what we went through?" Chanwoo asks. 

"Yeah, but my kids are going to win," Donghyuk says confidently.

The sun is setting on the other side of the high-rise buildings. In the distance, Namsan Tower is glowing blue. Hanbin recognizes most of the people at the party—a few other musicians, some journalists, Jinhwan's team of stylists from Joshua Tree. He spots Dohee chatting up a YG producer over by the doors and she nods approvingly when she meets Hanbin's eye. 

"Hyung, I think you got a little tan in the desert," Junhwe says. 

"I thought you guys were complaining that I don't get enough sunlight," Hanbin says. His throat feels dry and he wishes that he'd stopped by the bar on his way out. 

The topic of California doesn't come up again. Donghyuk asks Chanwoo about his new girlfriend, an idol a few years his junior, and the conversation moves onto Junhwe's shitty taste in girls and how Donghyuk's mother is itching for him to get married. 

For the first twenty minutes, Hanbin doesn't even see Jinhwan at his own party, but then the music cuts out and the DJ announces that the man of the hour will be making a speech. 

Jinhwan looks good. His hair is styled up, showing off his face. He's wearing slim black pants and a loose silk shirt with a deep v-neck. He's smiling, self-effacing, as he takes the mic offered by his manager, but his walk to the center of the rooftop is all swagger. 

"First of all," Jinhwan starts, "I'd like to thank everyone for being here tonight. I'm so happy to be able to celebrate my first release as a solo artist with you all. This album was a labor of love." 

Hanbin feels his stomach knotting up. 

Jinhwan names the people who helped to create his album. The president and vice president of his company, his manager, the music video director, the head of A&R—"and Kim Hanbin, who is the only person I trusted to make this project happen. Thank you everyone for your hard work." He raises his drink, a champagne flute instead of his usual wine glass. "To everyone who made this possible." 

"You've worked hard," Donghyuk whispers to Hanbin. 

Hanbin doesn't have a glass to raise. He curls his fingers into fists at his side and tries not to notice the way that Jinhwan's cheekbones are glowing under the lights. 

 

 

When the party begins to wind down, Hanbin finds himself standing alone at the edge of the balcony, looking out to Namsan Tower. The mountain stands out dark and black against the Seoul skyline and Hanbin thinks about the desert at night, the way the sky had been so clear that it felt like the entire galaxy was spread out above them. 

As if on cue, Hanbin hears Jinhwan's voice behind him. "Hey," he says. "I wasn't sure if you would be coming." 

"Dohee noona said I couldn't get out of it," Hanbin says, shrugging. 

Jinhwan moves next to him, leaning against the balcony railing. It's not quite hot outside, but the the residual humidity has Jinhwan's bangs flopping back down into his eyes. He's holding a lowball glass with something dark in it that he sips from as he looks out to the tower. 

Hanbin clears his throat. "I'm sorry for taking off without any warning."

"After my manager said you got a car to the airport, I figured you'd come back home. Bobby let me know that you were with him," Jinhwan says. "You didn't have to run away." 

"It was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened in the first place." 

Jinhwan reaches out with his free hand, fingers curving over Hanbin's wrist. Hanbin wonders if Jinhwan can feel the staccato pulse under his skin. "I'm not sorry about it." 

"It seems like you're not sorry very often," Hanbin mumbles. Then, more clearly, he says, "I don't want to talk to you about this while you're drunk."

"What?" Jinhwan asks, crinkling his eyebrows. "Oh, this is just Coke." He takes a sip from the glass as if to prove his point. "The president made me drink some champagne earlier, but I'm taking a break from alcohol right now. See, this funny thing happened the last time I was drunk. I slept with this guy that I've been half in love with for years and then I fucked it up so bad that he flew across the country to get away from me."

"It's not funny," Hanbin says, feeling bitterness rising up through his throat. "Don't say it like this is a joke."

"I know it's not a joke. I just don't know what you want me to say, Hanbin. I am sorry. For everything." Jinhwan sighs, his hand falling away. Hanbin can feel the sticky imprints from his fingertips lingering on his skin. 

He turns and Jinhwan's catches his eye, holding Hanbin's gaze without wavering. "Did you mean it?" Hanbin asks. "That you were in love with me? Half in love, whatever."

"I mean it," Jinhwan says. "You know, I wanted this working together deal to be a good thing for us, but I'm selfish. I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone."

Jinhwan turns to walk away, but Hanbin catches him by the arm, acting purely on instinct. He has no plan for this. "I am too," he says. "I've always been selfish." 

"Then we make a good pair," Jinhwan says with a small smile.

"I said it was a mistake because I thought it was going to be like last time," Hanbin says. "I didn't want you to wake up and tell me that it was just you getting it out of your system or something. I'm sorry I didn't trust you more." 

"I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you two years ago," Jinhwan says. "Do you think it's too late?" 

"Maybe it's not," Hanbin says. 

Or maybe it is. It's possible that sharp words and spite have turned whatever feelings existed between the two of them too bitter to salvage. But when Hanbin looks at Jinhwan, small and fierce and beautiful in this light, _want_ feels as automatic to him as breathing. He lets his hand fall, hooking his pinky around Jinhwan's fingers. "A date," Hanbin says. "We can start with a date." 

"I don't know, I'm about to be pretty busy," Jinhwan says with a smile, the corners of his eyes curving up into half-moons. "I'll have to check my schedule." 

"Don't make me change my mind," Hanbin warns, but he doesn't mean it. He's extended the olive branch. He isn't capable of taking it back now.

■

**Author's Note:**

> \- title and epigraph are from mindy nettifee's ["all i had to say for myself"](https://apoemaday.tumblr.com/post/189475338994/all-i-had-to-say-for-myself).  
> \- all ages correspond to korean ages (+1 years, give or take)  
> \- future ikon songs are made up  
> \- baek taejun isn't based on any real idol  
> \- i know nothing about making music but i did my best!!  
> \- stole jinhwan's music video concept from taemin and bobby tbh  
> \- thank you e for the thorough beta and r for the extra support


End file.
